Play Script - TextHenry IV, Part 1

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Script / Text of Act III Henry IV, Part 1

ACT IIISCENE I. Bangor. The Archdeacon's house.

Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER MORTIMER These promises are fair, the parties sure,And our induction full of prosperous hope.

HOTSPUR Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower,Will you sit down?And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it!I have forgot the map.

GLENDOWER No, here it is.Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur,For by that name as oft as LancasterDoth speak of you, his cheek looks pale and withA rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven.

HOTSPUR And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of.

GLENDOWER I cannot blame him: at my nativityThe front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,Of burning cressets; and at my birthThe frame and huge foundation of the earthShaked like a coward.

HOTSPUR Why, so it would have done at the same season, ifyour mother's cat had but kittened, though yourselfhad never been born.

GLENDOWER I say the earth did shake when I was born.

HOTSPUR And I say the earth was not of my mind,If you suppose as fearing you it shook.

GLENDOWER The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble.

HOTSPUR O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire,And not in fear of your nativity.Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forthIn strange eruptions; oft the teeming earthIs with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'dBy the imprisoning of unruly windWithin her womb; which, for enlargement striving,Shakes the old beldam earth and topples downSteeples and moss-grown towers. At your birthOur grandam earth, having this distemperature,In passion shook.

GLENDOWER Cousin, of many menI do not bear these crossings. Give me leaveTo tell you once again that at my birthThe front of heaven was full of fiery shapes,The goats ran from the mountains, and the herdsWere strangely clamorous to the frighted fields.These signs have mark'd me extraordinary;And all the courses of my life do showI am not in the roll of common men.Where is he living, clipp'd in with the seaThat chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales,Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me?And bring him out that is but woman's sonCan trace me in the tedious ways of artAnd hold me pace in deep experiments.

HOTSPUR I think there's no man speaks better Welsh.I'll to dinner.

MORTIMER Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad.

GLENDOWER I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

HOTSPUR Why, so can I, or so can any man;But will they come when you do call for them?

GLENDOWER Why, I can teach you, cousin, to commandThe devil.

HOTSPUR And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devilBy telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil.If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither,And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence.O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil!

MORTIMER Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat.

GLENDOWER Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made headAgainst my power; thrice from the banks of WyeAnd sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent himBootless home and weather-beaten back.

HOTSPUR Home without boots, and in foul weather too!How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name?

MORTIMER The archdeacon hath divided itInto three limits very equally:England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,By south and east is to my part assign'd:All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,And all the fertile land within that bound,To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to youThe remnant northward, lying off from Trent.And our indentures tripartite are drawn;Which being sealed interchangeably,A business that this night may execute,To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and IAnd my good Lord of Worcester will set forthTo meet your father and the Scottish power,As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.My father Glendower is not ready yet,Not shall we need his help these fourteen days.Within that space you may have drawn togetherYour tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen.

GLENDOWER A shorter time shall send me to you, lords:And in my conduct shall your ladies come;From whom you now must steal and take no leave,For there will be a world of water shedUpon the parting of your wives and you.

HOTSPUR Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,In quantity equals not one of yours:See how this river comes me cranking in,And cuts me from the best of all my landA huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.I'll have the current in this place damm'd up;And here the smug and silver Trent shall runIn a new channel, fair and evenly;It shall not wind with such a deep indent,To rob me of so rich a bottom here.

GLENDOWER Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth.

MORTIMER Yea, butMark how he bears his course, and runs me upWith like advantage on the other side;Gelding the opposed continent as muchAs on the other side it takes from you.

EARL OF WORCESTER Yea, but a little charge will trench him hereAnd on this north side win this cape of land;And then he runs straight and even.

HOTSPUR I'll have it so: a little charge will do it.

GLENDOWER I'll not have it alter'd.

HOTSPUR Will not you?

GLENDOWER No, nor you shall not.

HOTSPUR Who shall say me nay?

GLENDOWER Why, that will I.

HOTSPUR Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh.

GLENDOWER I can speak English, lord, as well as you;For I was train'd up in the English court;Where, being but young, I framed to the harpMany an English ditty lovely wellAnd gave the tongue a helpful ornament,A virtue that was never seen in you.

HOTSPUR Marry,And I am glad of it with all my heart:I had rather be a kitten and cry mewThan one of these same metre ballad-mongers;I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd,Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree;And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,Nothing so much as mincing poetry:'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

GLENDOWER Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.

HOTSPUR I do not care: I'll give thrice so much landTo any well-deserving friend;But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone?

GLENDOWER The moon shines fair; you may away by night:I'll haste the writer and withalBreak with your wives of your departure hence:I am afraid my daughter will run mad,So much she doteth on her Mortimer.

Exit GLENDOWER

MORTIMER Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!

HOTSPUR I cannot choose: sometime he angers meWith telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant,Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,And of a dragon and a finless fish,A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven,A couching lion and a ramping cat,And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuffAs puts me from my faith. I tell you what;He held me last night at least nine hoursIn reckoning up the several devils' namesThat were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,'But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tediousAs a tired horse, a railing wife;Worse than a smoky house: I had rather liveWith cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,Than feed on cates and have him talk to meIn any summer-house in Christendom.

MORTIMER In faith, he is a worthy gentleman,Exceedingly well read, and profitedIn strange concealments, valiant as a lionAnd as wondrous affable and as bountifulAs mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?He holds your temper in a high respectAnd curbs himself even of his natural scopeWhen you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does:I warrant you, that man is not aliveMight so have tempted him as you have done,Without the taste of danger and reproof:But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.

EARL OF WORCESTER In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame;And since your coming hither have done enoughTo put him quite beside his patience.You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault:Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,--And that's the dearest grace it renders you,--Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage,Defect of manners, want of government,Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain:The least of which haunting a noblemanLoseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stainUpon the beauty of all parts besides,Beguiling them of commendation.

HOTSPUR Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed!Here come our wives, and let us take our leave.

Re-enter GLENDOWER with the ladies

MORTIMER This is the deadly spite that angers me;My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh.

GLENDOWER My daughter weeps: she will not part with you;She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars.

MORTIMER Good father, tell her that she and my aunt PercyShall follow in your conduct speedily.

Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same

GLENDOWER She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry,one that no persuasion can do good upon.

The lady speaks in Welsh

MORTIMER I understand thy looks: that pretty WelshWhich thou pour'st down from these swelling heavensI am too perfect in; and, but for shame,In such a parley should I answer thee.

The lady speaks again in Welsh

I understand thy kisses and thou mine,And that's a feeling disputation:But I will never be a truant, love,Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongueMakes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd,Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower,With ravishing division, to her lute.

GLENDOWER Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad.

The lady speaks again in Welsh

MORTIMER O, I am ignorance itself in this!

GLENDOWER She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you downAnd rest your gentle head upon her lap,And she will sing the song that pleaseth youAnd on your eyelids crown the god of sleep.Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness,Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleepAs is the difference betwixt day and nightThe hour before the heavenly-harness'd teamBegins his golden progress in the east.

MORTIMER With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing:By that time will our book, I think, be drawn

GLENDOWER Do so;And those musicians that shall play to youHang in the air a thousand leagues from hence,And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend.

HOTSPUR Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come,quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap.

LADY PERCY Go, ye giddy goose.

The music plays

HOTSPUR Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh;And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous.By'r lady, he is a good musician.

LADY PERCY Then should you be nothing but musical for you arealtogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief,and hear the lady sing in Welsh.

HOTSPUR I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish.

LADY PERCY Wouldst thou have thy head broken?

HOTSPUR No.

LADY PERCY Then be still.

HOTSPUR Neither;'tis a woman's fault.

LADY PERCY Now God help thee!

HOTSPUR To the Welsh lady's bed.

LADY PERCY What's that?

HOTSPUR Peace! she sings.

Here the lady sings a Welsh song

HOTSPUR Come, Kate, I'll have your song too.

LADY PERCY Not mine, in good sooth.

HOTSPUR Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like acomfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and'as sure as day,'And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths,As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury.Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art,A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,'And such protest of pepper-gingerbread,To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens.Come, sing.

LADY PERCY I will not sing.

HOTSPUR 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breastteacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll awaywithin these two hours; and so, come in when ye will.

Exit

GLENDOWER Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slowAs hot Lord Percy is on fire to go.By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal,And then to horse immediately.

MORTIMER With all my heart.

Exeunt

SCENE II. London. The palace.

Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, and others KING HENRY IV Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and IMust have some private conference; but be near at hand,For we shall presently have need of you.

Exeunt Lords

I know not whether God will have it so,For some displeasing service I have done,That, in his secret doom, out of my bloodHe'll breed revengement and a scourge for me;But thou dost in thy passages of lifeMake me believe that thou art only mark'dFor the hot vengeance and the rod of heavenTo punish my mistreadings. Tell me else,Could such inordinate and low desires,Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts,Such barren pleasures, rude society,As thou art match'd withal and grafted to,Accompany the greatness of thy bloodAnd hold their level with thy princely heart?

PRINCE HENRY So please your majesty, I would I couldQuit all offences with as clear excuseAs well as I am doubtless I can purgeMyself of many I am charged withal:Yet such extenuation let me beg,As, in reproof of many tales devised,which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear,By smiling pick-thanks and base news-mongers,I may, for some things true, wherein my youthHath faulty wander'd and irregular,Find pardon on my true submission.

KING HENRY IV God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry,At thy affections, which do hold a wingQuite from the flight of all thy ancestors.Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost.Which by thy younger brother is supplied,And art almost an alien to the heartsOf all the court and princes of my blood:The hope and expectation of thy timeIs ruin'd, and the soul of every manProphetically doth forethink thy fall.Had I so lavish of my presence been,So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men,So stale and cheap to vulgar company,Opinion, that did help me to the crown,Had still kept loyal to possessionAnd left me in reputeless banishment,A fellow of no mark nor likelihood.By being seldom seen, I could not stirBut like a comet I was wonder'd at;That men would tell their children 'This is he;'Others would say 'Where, which is Bolingbroke?'And then I stole all courtesy from heaven,And dress'd myself in such humilityThat I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts,Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths,Even in the presence of the crowned king.Thus did I keep my person fresh and new;My presence, like a robe pontifical,Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state,Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feastAnd won by rareness such solemnity.The skipping king, he ambled up and downWith shallow jesters and rash bavin wits,Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state,Mingled his royalty with capering fools,Had his great name profaned with their scornsAnd gave his countenance, against his name,To laugh at gibing boys and stand the pushOf every beardless vain comparative,Grew a companion to the common streets,Enfeoff'd himself to popularity;That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes,They surfeited with honey and beganTo loaThe taste of sweetness, whereof a littleMore than a little is by much too much.So when he had occasion to be seen,He was but as the cuckoo is in June,Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyesAs, sick and blunted with community,Afford no extraordinary gaze,Such as is bent on sun-like majestyWhen it shines seldom in admiring eyes;But rather drowzed and hung their eyelids down,Slept in his face and render'd such aspectAs cloudy men use to their adversaries,Being with his presence glutted, gorged and full.And in that very line, Harry, standest thou;For thou has lost thy princely privilegeWith vile participation: not an eyeBut is a-weary of thy common sight,Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more;Which now doth that I would not have it do,Make blind itself with foolish tenderness.

KING HENRY IV For all the worldAs thou art to this hour was Richard thenWhen I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh,And even as I was then is Percy now.Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot,He hath more worthy interest to the stateThan thou the shadow of succession;For of no right, nor colour like to right,He doth fill fields with harness in the realm,Turns head against the lion's armed jaws,And, being no more in debt to years than thou,Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops onTo bloody battles and to bruising arms.What never-dying honour hath he gotAgainst renowned Douglas! whose high deeds,Whose hot incursions and great name in armsHolds from all soldiers chief majorityAnd military title capitalThrough all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ:Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes,This infant warrior, in his enterprisesDiscomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once,Enlarged him and made a friend of him,To fill the mouth of deep defiance upAnd shake the peace and safety of our throne.And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland,The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer,Capitulate against us and are up.But wherefore do I tell these news to thee?Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes,Which art my near'st and dearest enemy?Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear,Base inclination and the start of spleenTo fight against me under Percy's pay,To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns,To show how much thou art degenerate.

PRINCE HENRY Do not think so; you shall not find it so:And God forgive them that so much have sway'dYour majesty's good thoughts away from me!I will redeem all this on Percy's headAnd in the closing of some glorious dayBe bold to tell you that I am your son;When I will wear a garment all of bloodAnd stain my favours in a bloody mask,Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it:And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights,That this same child of honour and renown,This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight,And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet.For every honour sitting on his helm,Would they were multitudes, and on my headMy shames redoubled! for the time will come,That I shall make this northern youth exchangeHis glorious deeds for my indignities.Percy is but my factor, good my lord,To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf;And I will call him to so strict account,That he shall render every glory up,Yea, even the slightest worship of his time,Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart.This, in the name of God, I promise here:The which if He be pleased I shall perform,I do beseech your majesty may salveThe long-grown wounds of my intemperance:If not, the end of life cancels all bands;And I will die a hundred thousand deathsEre break the smallest parcel of this vow.

SIR WALTER BLUNT So hath the business that I come to speak of.Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent wordThat Douglas and the English rebels metThe eleventh of this month at ShrewsburyA mighty and a fearful head they are,If promises be kept on every hand,As ever offer'd foul play in the state.

KING HENRY IV The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day;With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster;For this advertisement is five days old:On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward;On Thursday we ourselves will march: our meetingIs Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you shall marchThrough Gloucestershire; by which account,Our business valued, some twelve days henceOur general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet.Our hands are full of business: let's away;Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay.

Exeunt

Scene III Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern.

Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH

FALSTAFF Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this lastaction? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why myskin hangs about me like an like an old lady's loosegown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well,I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in someliking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then Ishall have no strength to repent. An I have notforgotten what the inside of a church is made of, Iam a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of achurch! Company, villanous company, hath been thespoil of me.

BARDOLPH Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long.

FALSTAFF Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; makeme merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentlemanneed to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced notabove seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house oncein a quarter--of an hour; paid money that Iborrowed, three of four times; lived well and ingood compass: and now I live out of all order, outof all compass.

BARDOLPH Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needsbe out of all compass, out of all reasonablecompass, Sir John.

FALSTAFF No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as manya man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: Inever see thy face but I think upon hell-fire andDives that lived in purple; for there he is in hisrobes, burning, burning. If thou wert any waygiven to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oathshould be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' butthou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, butfor the light in thy face, the son of utterdarkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in thenight to catch my horse, if I did not think thouhadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire,there's no purchase in money. O, thou art aperpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light!Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links andtorches, walking with thee in the night betwixttavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hastdrunk me would have bought me lights as good cheapat the dearest chandler's in Europe. I havemaintained that salamander of yours with fire anytime this two and thirty years; God reward me forit!

BARDOLPH 'Sblood, I would my face were in your belly!

FALSTAFF God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heart-burned.

Enter Hostess

How now, Dame Partlet the hen! have you inquiredyet who picked my pocket?

Hostess Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do youthink I keep thieves in my house? I have searched,I have inquired, so has my husband, man by man, boyby boy, servant by servant: the tithe of a hairwas never lost in my house before.

FALSTAFF Ye lie, hostess: Bardolph was shaved and lost manya hair; and I'll be sworn my pocket was picked. Goto, you are a woman, go.

Hostess Who, I? no; I defy thee: God's light, I was nevercalled so in mine own house before.

FALSTAFF Go to, I know you well enough.

Hostess No, Sir John; You do not know me, Sir John. I knowyou, Sir John: you owe me money, Sir John; and nowyou pick a quarrel to beguile me of it: I boughtyou a dozen of shirts to your back.

FALSTAFF Dowlas, filthy dowlas: I have given them away tobakers' wives, and they have made bolters of them.

Hostess Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eightshillings an ell. You owe money here besides, SirJohn, for your diet and by-drinkings, and money lentyou, four and twenty pound.

FALSTAFF He had his part of it; let him pay.

Hostess He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing.

FALSTAFF How! poor? look upon his face; what call you rich?let them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks:Ill not pay a denier. What, will you make a younkerof me? shall I not take mine case in mine inn but Ishall have my pocket picked? I have lost aseal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark.

Hostess O Jesu, I have heard the prince tell him, I know nothow oft, that ring was copper!

FALSTAFF How! the prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup: 'sblood, anhe were here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if hewould say so.

Enter PRINCE HENRY and PETO, marching, and FALSTAFF meets them playing on his truncheon like a life

How now, lad! is the wind in that door, i' faith?must we all march?

BARDOLPH Yea, two and two, Newgate fashion.

Hostess My lord, I pray you, hear me.

PRINCE HENRY What sayest thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thyhusband? I love him well; he is an honest man.

Hostess Good my lord, hear me.

FALSTAFF Prithee, let her alone, and list to me.

PRINCE HENRY What sayest thou, Jack?

FALSTAFF The other night I fell asleep here behind the arrasand had my pocket picked: this house is turnedbawdy-house; they pick pockets.

PRINCE HENRY What didst thou lose, Jack?

FALSTAFF Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds offorty pound apiece, and a seal-ring of mygrandfather's.

PRINCE HENRY A trifle, some eight-penny matter.

Hostess So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard yourgrace say so: and, my lord, he speaks most vilelyof you, like a foul-mouthed man as he is; and saidhe would cudgel you.

PRINCE HENRY What! he did not?

Hostess There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.

FALSTAFF There's no more faith in thee than in a stewedprune; nor no more truth in thee than in a drawnfox; and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be thedeputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing,go

Hostess Nay, my lord, he called you Jack, and said he wouldcudgel you.

FALSTAFF Did I, Bardolph?

BARDOLPH Indeed, Sir John, you said so.

FALSTAFF Yea, if he said my ring was copper.

PRINCE HENRY I say 'tis copper: darest thou be as good as thy word now?

FALSTAFF Why, Hal, thou knowest, as thou art but man, I dare:but as thou art prince, I fear thee as I fear theroaring of a lion's whelp.

PRINCE HENRY And why not as the lion?

FALSTAFF The king is to be feared as the lion: dost thouthink I'll fear thee as I fear thy father? nay, anI do, I pray God my girdle break.

PRINCE HENRY O, if it should, how would thy guts fall about thyknees! But, sirrah, there's no room for faith,truth, nor honesty in this bosom of thine; it is allfilled up with guts and midriff. Charge an honestwoman with picking thy pocket! why, thou whoreson,impudent, embossed rascal, if there were anything inthy pocket but tavern-reckonings, memorandums ofbawdy-houses, and one poor penny-worth ofsugar-candy to make thee long-winded, if thy pocketwere enriched with any other injuries but these, Iam a villain: and yet you will stand to if; you willnot pocket up wrong: art thou not ashamed?

FALSTAFF Dost thou hear, Hal? thou knowest in the state ofinnocency Adam fell; and what should poor JackFalstaff do in the days of villany? Thou seest Ihave more flesh than another man, and therefore morefrailty. You confess then, you picked my pocket?

Now Hal, to the news at court: for the robbery,lad, how is that answered?

PRINCE HENRY O, my sweet beef, I must still be good angel tothee: the money is paid back again.

FALSTAFF O, I do not like that paying back; 'tis a double labour.

PRINCE HENRY I am good friends with my father and may do any thing.

FALSTAFF Rob me the exchequer the first thing thou doest, anddo it with unwashed hands too.

BARDOLPH Do, my lord.

PRINCE HENRY I have procured thee, Jack, a charge of foot.

FALSTAFF I would it had been of horse. Where shall I findone that can steal well? O for a fine thief, of theage of two and twenty or thereabouts! I amheinously unprovided. Well, God be thanked forthese rebels, they offend none but the virtuous: Ilaud them, I praise them.

PRINCE HENRY Bardolph!

BARDOLPH My lord?

PRINCE HENRY Go bear this letter to Lord John of Lancaster, to mybrother John; this to my Lord of Westmoreland.

Exit Bardolph

Go, Peto, to horse, to horse; for thou and I havethirty miles to ride yet ere dinner time.

Exit Peto

Jack, meet me to-morrow in the temple hall at twoo'clock in the afternoon.There shalt thou know thy charge; and there receiveMoney and order for their furniture.The land is burning; Percy stands on high;And either we or they must lower lie.